


Between Breaths

by GummySungShine



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Anal Fingering, Horny Rufus, M/M, Masturbation, Rookie Turk Tseng, pre-game
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-09
Updated: 2020-07-09
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:54:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25171210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GummySungShine/pseuds/GummySungShine
Summary: A certain rookie Turk unwittingly catches the attention of the Shinra heir.(long story short: Rufus gets horny over Tseng)
Relationships: Rufus Shinra/Tseng
Comments: 5
Kudos: 53





	Between Breaths

**Author's Note:**

> And I'm back at it again with the spicy content. :')  
> This is set pre-game, and pre-Before Crisis. Estimated ages are 18-19.
> 
> This is unbeta'd as usual. So there might be mistakes.

\---

Tseng.  
That was his name.  
The rookie Turk that’d just been initiated.

Having had the pleasure of meeting him - and what a pleasure it was, he thought - the newbie had garnered his interest almost immediately.  
Chocolate eyes had looked at him through thick, dark lashes. Gaze perhaps a little harsh for someone his age. Satin-like, raven hair framed his Wutaian features, and _oh_ how he’d wished to reach out to touch it.  
He was mesmerising, to put it lightly.  
What a Wutaian was doing working for Shinra, as a Turk no less, was somewhat beyond Rufus’ understanding. But it mattered little. He was here now, and that was that.

Having snuck into Veld’s office, despite knowing he shouldn’t have, it hadn’t taken him long at all to access the rookie’s information. It was as he’d suspected. He’d been right in his assumption of his birthplace, very close in his estimate of his age. But he hadn’t gone looking for that specifically.  
No. Rufus had something else in mind entirely.  
What little photos they had of him on file, Rufus had quickly snapped his own with his phone from the screen, swiftly logging out of the computer and making his getaway before Veld would’ve even known he was there.

Now alone in his room, door locked for good measure, Rufus lay armed on his bed with all he needed. Already naked from the waist down, throbbing between his legs just looking at the screen of his phone, his mind wandered a deep, seemingly endless pit of desire.  
Popping a deft finger into his mouth, he sucked lightly on the tip. Snaking that same hand to the hem of his top, lifting the fabric up to his chest, he circled the moist pad of his finger around a dusky-pink nipple. Craning his head back against the softness of the duvet, he imagined Tseng’s mouth at his chest, hot tongue running itself over the pert bud. He could almost feel the soft tickle of the Turk’s silken hair against his skin, the fingers of his other hand itching to grab at the imaginary strands.

The heat pooling between his thighs only soared with each motion of his fingertip, biting down on his bottom lip as a half-whimper snuck its way out. He wouldn’t dare touch himself. Not yet. Just the thought alone of the rookie Turk was enough to get blood rushing southwards, let alone allowing his fantasies to play out in his head with his fist wrapped around his length. Not exactly one known for his patience, Rufus willed himself to take things slow.  
Reaching out to grab his phone, he flicked through the scarce few images of Tseng he’d managed to retrieve from the Turks’ database. They were nothing special, simple photos taken for ID purposes, but they were enough. He could feel that strangely hard gaze through the screen, staring at him, just as it had upon their first meeting.  
  
God, he thought, that first meeting. He hadn’t been able to tear his eyes away. Something about the Turk riled him up in all the right ways. Whatever it was, it was surely something he’d work out later.  
With the hot heat between his legs twitching at the thought of the rookie, he grabbed at the bottle of lube he’d tossed on the bed earlier, uncapping it and coating two of his digits generously. He knew it was better to have too much than not enough.

In one hand he held his phone close to his face, rolling onto his side as he brought his knees up, his other hand wandering straight behind him to his backside. Gently prodding at his entrance he teased himself just a little, just how he liked, wishing it were Tseng’s cock rubbing his tight hole. He wondered what it would be like, how big, how thick.  
Biting his bottom lip with a groan, keeping that thought in mind, he slipped a single finger in, forcing himself to relax before adding another. Mouth parted, gasping softly at the stretch, he stared into the dark eyes of the Turk’s photo, wanting that gaze to devour him, swallow him whole.

“Tseng.” He tested the name, whispering it softly as fingers curled inside him.

Rubbing, pushing against warm, slick walls, he searched for the spot he knew would have him shuddering. With only his fingers as his sole method of pleasure - something he knew he needed to seek about changing, and soon - he’d become well versed in knowing how to get the best out of his ‘alone time’. It took him little time to find the spot, moaning low in his throat, back arching, length throbbing with every subsequent stroke of his walls.  
  
Needing more, he shifted himself onto his knees, fucking himself on his fingers as he stared down at the screen of his phone. What he wouldn't give to ride the Turk, feel his cock fill him so fully, his hands roam his body, grasping at his hips - tight enough to bruise. That’s what he wanted, no, what he craved. To have Tseng mark him. Bear his claim.   
Oh, how the Turk had thoroughly messed him up so quickly.

“Tseng.” Rufus whined, pushing himself down faster, harder, his other hand pulling his shirt over his head.

With sweat beading at his hairline, at the back of his neck, breath ripping from his mouth in harsh, hot pants, he scarcely gave a care for who might hear him through the walls of his room. 

“ _Fuck_ , Tseng.”

Through grit teeth he brushed a hand against his neglected length, clenching his eyes shut tight, willing back the need to come. Already so aroused, too aroused, by the time he’d gotten started, he found himself fighting a losing battle.

“Fuck, fuck, _shit_.” 

Stark white bloomed behind his lids, his entire body jolting, wanting to both arch and collapse in on itself at the same time. Coming to a complete halt for a moment, walls clenching around his fingers, he rocked himself back slowly upon them, drawing out every little ounce of pleasure he could, riding the wave of his orgasm with ragged breaths spilling forth.

Lids fluttering open, he looked down at the face that remained unmoving on the screen, catching the breath that his bliss stole, whispering the Turk’s name.

“Tseng.”  
  
How he would manage to face the rookie again, without a single depraved fantasy playing out in his mind was beyond him. The thought of having to keep a straight face, and not openly ask for the Turk to bend him over right then and there, would perhaps be the hardest task he’d ever take on.   
But it was all the Turk’s doing.   
It was _his_ fault for being so beautiful.


End file.
